White Lies
by MarinaEverlasting
Summary: "It would only be at night that he would let the façade be broken. He would spit everything up for her to hear and know as she strokes his hair and presses her chin against his forehead, ever so softly. There would be no lies, then." Lady is pissed by the fact that Dante keeps things away from her, but she can't blame him, even if she wants to snap at him for being a jerk. DxL.


**White Lies**

* * *

Oh, when he used to tell her to '_get her shit together' _whenever he ended up frustrated with her_... _how much that would unnerve her, upset her and make her blood boil in irritation.

_Who does he think he is?_

And who is he to go around and bitch at her just because she didn't feel like having a girlie chat with him?

Perhaps that statement had made her blood boil because he, more or less, was right? But it had been hard. She'd been young, too young. Messed up morals, messed up thoughts, messed up mind and messed up memories that drew him closer to her, yet they also made her unreachable to him, and they just kept him apart even though she considered him as a decent guy -and then she thougt about him as something more, but that came later, much later.

She thinks about it now.

_It had been hard_.

She hadn't been able to figure out, at that time, why he had been so upset about her behaviour -speculation, but no real knowledge. So what if she didn't want to talk? She really didn't trust him that much, at that time, to the point she would speak about her thoughts to him. And then there had been the teasing, that made her feel even more uneasy, for she hadn't thought about him being _serious_ about that... you know. And no matter how pretty he might had been, she hadn't really thought about him in that way... yet.

He used to tease her about about being _close_; yes, that kind of close, and everybody knew what happened to the women that fell for the impetuous devil hunter or just stayed the night with him. A partner was a thing; what he implied... was something very different and Lady was mistrustful. She didn't want to be just a toy.

And she'd been right to be mistrustful.

Was he serious? Was he just messing with her? My, who knew.

But she stayed close to him, though. A decent guy was a decent guy.

Then she started to know him better.

...But back to the main topic, it wasn't _entirely _her fault, the fact of her being too over-protective towards herself. Time gave one knowledge. She didn't want to confide her secrets to someone she didn't know that much, fearing it would tear her apart. A lot of things could happen and there was just so much she didn't know... So much she could lose, like the warmth of a true friend. Her only friend back then. It was common sense, dammit. Self-defense to not get yourself hurt.

And then there had been the memory of blood and red eyes. And later, the sight of his real form that he had tried so hard to cover to her but had to use, in the end, when a mission had gone not as expected ten years ago.

Now it was sure that it had been hard for him as well. And she had to admit he was a patient creature, among other things. Patient enough to wait for her to warm up and come to understand him better.

But that's another story.

The thing was that now, looking over the past, Lady understands why he was so damn upset with her not wanting to talk, confide her inner monologues with him when both of them could relate to each other so much.

It was simply a very unpleasant feeling that she was now feeling as well. She never thought that would happen; she usually got mad at him when his obnoxious self got in her nerves, but not because of _this._

_This? What is this, you ask?_

Dante started to not say _anything _at all, to be unusually quiet.

She started to feel it as well, the frustration he'd felt (and sometimes still feels) towards her.

It happened all to quickly. One day he was fine, the other too, and the other and the other... until he started to act _funny_, like he did on that cathedral, with the blond woman clad in black leather and that ugly, trickster demon.

She remembered him being upset about something, too, a year or two ago, but since he didn't say anything to her, she just let it pass and, eventually, he let it go, too, and he went back to normal and she, oddly, was glad. Well, having an emotional Dante wasn't something she liked to see. And... it was very out of place. She had been really glad to hear him complain and tease her again...

...Until now. Maybe he just did a very good job at making it seem that he let it go.

...But Dante knew how to lie. When he wanted, he lied as though he was an expert. He lied with too much ease and he made her believe that he had got over that certain thing that happened two years ago or so.

A shame, then, that Lady was also a good liar, that she knew him well enough as to tear apart the sugar-coated covers of deception that he now wore for a second time in front of her.

It was... off. Dante wasn't one to worry over things unless they were **very** important.

She wanted to know why. Why, and _what_. Seeing him like that was really depressing and certainly not something she enjoyed to see.

That's why she was frustrated: Dante was acting hypocritically and it pissed her off; mostly because he was doing something that he used to bitch about... about **her**. And it also pissed her off the fact that she was only able to find out what monopolized his thoughts thanks to that devil woman with blonde hair she met some days ago prior to Dante acting like this _again._ And she almost felt compelled to feel betrayed -deep down, maybe? She strongly thinks that he should have told her if he trusted her that much.

When she heard of this from that blonde demon... Oh, she had really wanted to strangle him. Shoot him. Punch him hard in the face.

A year or two ago, she supposed he was fine. It seems he wasn't, and it was all coming back to him. And he didn't have the balls of telling her?

_Oh, who's acting childish now, Dante?_

Yes, she'd been pissed, but... ...

She didn't want to leave him like that. Lady wants to quench his thirst so he would let it go once and for all, whatever it was that was saddening him that much. A few years back, she would have shot him for not telling her the truth and doing something he hated about her (and he always complains about that! That makes it even worse!), but now she know it would solve nothing.

And it must be important for him.

She cares, even if she sometimes didn't like to admit it.

_Dammit all to hell._

She sighs in frustration.

She asks once more, deep down expecting the same response.

There's a toothy grin when he hears her voice and her concern, he takes her hand, pulls her closer and gives her a small peck on the lips.

"And here I thought you didn't care 'bout me. I'm ever so touched..." And he repeated that which he'd been always saying when asked. "But I'm fine, little lady." The grin doesn't wear off nor the kisses to keep her distracted. "come 'ere..." He pulled her even closer to him.

He lied again. But she can't force him into telling her something he doesn't want to tell. She would wait for the best moment to snap at him and end this bullshit, but not now when the wound is still tender.

Hm. And he says women are complicated... ... Yeah.

* * *

…

…

Dante is in a very good mood today, too. Well, no, it wasn't like it was a rarity to see him like this (far from it); but he had been really affectionate for the last few days, too much if Lady said so herself.

_Sigh._

The mission had been a complete success. Trish made a mess of everything, Dante also made a mess of everything, half of the town was more or less destroyed, Sparda was safe and intact and the order was no more.

Dante had his reasons to be content, not only for that, but more because of the fact that the brunette wouldn't be able to extort him anymore. However, it was not in him to be this happy over that, and it didn't look like it would wear off any time soon.

Then he says it, after some time after the mission, with Trish around. He displays a series of strange emotions; strange meaning that they were somewhat 'contradictory'. Oh, Dante can tell lots of things with his eyes -Lady just didn't know how to decipher them all, so she would be there and wait for him to spit it up, something he eventually did.

_Or else, she would make him spit it all out._

And Trish is chuckling as she rolls her eyes.

"That brat sure's caught your attention." The she-devil comments, more to herself than to them.

And Dante confesses that he was 'an annoying brat you would love to argue with', trying not to pay much mind to the ever-so-chatty Trish. He said more stuff, but it was mostly useless trivia and cocky remarks about how much of a joke that 'Saviour' thing was.

And they keep on talking about the mysterious one and how much of a jackass that Sanctus person had been and some other stuff which involved Dante laughing his ass off over random demons, frigid people and crappy places.

Lady had laughed, too. It was hard not to when Dante was.

Even though the information shared had been minimal, it was enough for Lady to believe Dante's state of mind was because of the white hair and the bright blue eyes of that strange boy, though there might be something else that she hadn't heard yet. Surely.

They said he pretty much looked like Dante himself. Even Dante looked a bit 'off' as he admitted it.

She would eventually know. Dante's not the closed type, and he was so thirsty of knowledge that, eventually, he will say something he shouldn't say and fuck those layers of self-defense.

* * *

...

...

"Don't get your hopes too high." She says, when they're alone and Trish already left. The blond had probably tried already to say this to him, but Lady wants to try it herself, too. The half-devil seems to ignore her, but not anymore when she gets closer to his face and brushes his nose with hers. "Y'know what happens then, when they get crushed." The last part is a very low whisper, hot breath against his mouth, but it's loud enough for Dante to hear.

He swallows. "Yeah. I know." Then, he replies, knowing about what she is talking about, and tries to believe in his words. He really tries to and perhaps for a moment he does -_perhaps_, because she knows Dante too much, but she still can't read minds.

Something tells her, though, that that was also a lie. After all, Dante was a good liar; good enough to even lie to himself. Whatever Lady would say, Dante would brush it off, say he was fine and believe what he wanted to believe; no matter if what she said was the truth, it ran in conflict with that truth he believed in and anticipated to be real.

He's thirsty for a truth it does not exist.

_Or perhaps it does, but it's very unlikely to be real._

It was a bit sad.

Didn't that also happen to her...?_ ...You forced him into this!_

Indeed it happened.

* * *

...

...

Dante knew how to lie, but not for too much, and eventually, with him not being the closed kind of guy, his thoughts took the better of him when they overflowed and that would be the time the brunette came to know about everything inside that messy mind of his. That was why Lady couldn't stay mad at him even if she wanted to, that would be hypocritical of her -she would complain, she did complain, but she really couldn't blame him because she understood.

It would be only at night, engulfed by darkness, that he would let the façade be broken. He would spit everything up for her to hear and know as she strokes his hair and presses her chin against his forehead, ever so softly. Her lips would sometimes graze his scalp, and he doesn't (wouldn't) complain.

And he just leans backs against her and murmurs sweet nothings, that he's fine.

And he would be completely truthful then.

Lady would smile faintly, just slightly.

"Jackass..." She would whisper.

* * *

_I cannot quench your thirst  
Because even if you yearn for the truth, you refuse to believe in it._

_I cannot quench your thirst_  
_Because no such truth exists that you are in anticipation for._

_But I still want to quench your thirst._  
_Because I am the one who put you into the desert._

**-Frederica Bernkastel**

* * *

**A/N: Short fic inspired by the poem above, albeit loosely (notice that the fic is separated in three parts for a reason~). First part is placed somewhere during the anime and the other three parts are post-DMC4, if someone is confused (and yes, these three last parts are written in the same day). There's a small possibility that I'd messed with the timeline or with something, but I tried not to ;A;. Sorry about that. Dante and Lady need more love, even if it doesn't come as good as I want (me and my rushed way of writing ;A;). 'Nuff said. And this time I tried to write Lady in a somewhat serious situation (hey, even BADASS people like Dante have their bad days), so I just wrote her the way I think she would act, but I'm feeling awkward because I can't distinguish the line between 'masterpiece' and 'utter crap' anymore. Someone help me and tell me how it was? D:**

**Yes, I'm having Dante/Lady feels today ;A;. Will someone quench my thirst?**


End file.
